


Napoleon of Justice

by radculas



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Sherlock, M/M, Mental Instability, Non-Consensual Kissing, Parallel Universes, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radculas/pseuds/radculas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor James Moriarty teaches mathematics at University College London while working as a consulting detective with his stoic flat mate, Sebastian Moran at 221B Baker Street. </p><p>A deadly crime master, Sherlock Holmes and his assistant, an invalided army doctor, John Watson lingers in the shadows of London and Sebastian witnesses the disintegration of Jim's composure and warm facade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Napoleon of Justice

Jim ran his hand through his ruffled hair as he mulled over the sheets of paper littered in front of him. He has been hunched over the coffee table for nearly 5 hours, biting the end of his pen, occasionally pausing to scribble something in the margins of the paper. Sebastian approached the table and poured some freshly brewed coffee into the professor’s empty mug. The dark auburn eyes looked up at him and narrowed as Jim smiled charmingly.

“Oh, thank you.”

“What are you working on, this time?” Sebastian asked as he eyed the series of diagrams and sophisticated formulas scribbled on the papers. Jim tapped one of the report sheets and flourished it at Sebastian.

“A student asked me about the undecidability theorem and it had me going about the Entscheidungsproblem. Fascinating, really. It’s basically an idea of a hypothetical computable function that would be able to determine the logical value of mathematical statements. Alan Turing proved that a general solution to the Entscheidungsproblem is impossible. He came up with the concept of crystalizing mechanical procedures that would make it easier for us to find a halting problem or unsolvable problems, which operates in a predetermined manner according to-” Jim came to a sudden halt and looked back up at Sebastian. “You don’t understand any of this, do you?” His flat mate shrugged and placed the coffee pot on the table.

“Not a single word, but go on. I like to listen to you ramble on.”

“It’s basically an idea of mechanical short cuts that could rule out dead ends and unsolvable problems.”

“Ah, I see,” Sebastian Moran nodded although he wasn’t sure he truly understood what his friend was talking about. “It sounds interesting.”

“Oh come off it, I know you aren’t” Jim said and sipped his coffee. Sebastian grinned back playfully.

“But how do you know if the problem is unsolvable or not?” Jim’s eyes glinted with delight and Sebastian could see that his friend was struggling hard not to ramble on.

“That’s the biggest problem, my dear; where to draw the line between the solvable and the unsolvable.”

“But you can solve anything.” Jim shrugged.

“Crimes, yeah. But in the world of mathematics, there are more unsolved mysteries than the solved.” With that, Jim Moriarty tossed the pen on the table, threw his arms behind his head and lied down on the couch.

“Yoohoo,” A familiar voice and a knock came from the door. “Do you boys want some casserole? I’m afraid I keep getting the portions wrong.”

“Ah, Mrs. Hudson, you are too kind!” Jim exclaimed and beamed at his landlord as she passed a casserole dish over to Sebastian. Jim sniffed. “Beef casserole. Brilliant, my favorite. Care to join us for dinner? I have a fine bottle of Romanee-Conti. I got it from one of my clients the other day.”

“Oh that sounds wonderful, Professor.” Mrs. Hudson smiled. “We should have it downstairs. I don’t want to spill anything over your student’s papers.” Jim and Sebastian looked around the room. Papers were scattered all over the place. Not only the coffee table but also their working desk and the kitchen table. Sebastian ran a hand over the scar on the left side of his chin.

“I think we should tidy the place up a bit, Jim.”

“Hmm, yes.” Jim agreed and jumped to his feet. “It’s nearly the end of term. All scholars' home in London are in a similar state.” 

“I’m pretty sure most scholars have assistants sharing the load work.” Sebastian remarked.

“Ah, nonsense, I have you. You’re an Oxford graduate. Academia is no problem for you.” Jim waved his hands, bound across the room and pulled out a wine bottle from the kitchen cupboard.

“I read politics, Jim.”

Jim didn’t seem to hear. He popped open the cork and grabbed three wine glasses. “Come on, Sebastian, Mrs. Hudson. Let us go downstairs and eat! I am starving!” Excited with the thought of food, he threw his arms in the air, spilling a blotch of the wine onto the kitchen counter.

“Professor!”  
“Jim!”

It was well after the residents of 221 Baker Street finished their casserole and were opening another bottle of wine when someone buzzed on their flat door.

“I’ll get it.” Sebastian said as he heavily lifted himself from his seat.

“It’s probably Lestrade.” Jim said lazily and poured some wine into Mrs. Hudson’s glass. Jim’s statement was proven correct when the Detective Inspector entered the dining room of 221A followed by Sebastian.

“Professor Moriarty, Mrs. Hudson,” He greeted politely. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner.”

“It’s fine, Gregory.” Jim smiled up at the officer. “Is your mobile broken? Unusual for you to drop by without a notice.”

“It’s Holmes.” Lestrade said urgently. All of the sudden, Jim’s eyes widened and Mrs. Hudson swallowed her breath. Even Sebastian’s hard composure wavered for a second with the deadly name. Lestrade beckoned Jim to follow him. “You need to come with me. I’ll explain in the car.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to get ready.” Jim emptied his glass and shot up to his feet. He shrugged at the landlady. “Sorry Mrs. Hudson, you will have to finish the rest without us.” Then, he dashed out of the kitchen, followed by the thumping noise of him running up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson looked at Lestrade and Sebastian with a concerned look.

“Oh look at him, always dashing about.”

Jim Moriarty descended downstairs again exactly five minutes later dressed in a sharp, dark blue Westwood suit, which made him look slightly taller than his usual scruffy look. His ruffled hair was brushed and set neatly.

“Okay, Greg, lead the way!” He said in chirpy tone and clapped his hands together excitedly.

Sebastian slipped into the passenger seat while the professor sat in the center of the back seat. Jim leaned forward to fit himself in the space between the two front seats. This was his favorite seating.

“Holmes demanded to see you.” Lestrade said as he maneuvered the vehicle down the jumbled streets of Central London.

“And where is he?”

“New Scotland Yard, he came walking straight into the building.” Jim let out a whistle and grinned widely.  Sebastian furrowed his brow.

“Well, that is a bold move! Is he that eager to see me?”

“And Watson?” Sebastian asked Lestrade, remembering his former colleague.

“Nowhere to be seen.”

“I see.” It was ironic that back in the Afghanistan days, Captain Watson was the army doctor and Colonel Moran was the merciless sniper. Now their roles had switched completely.  John Watson is suspected for numerous murder while Sebastian Moran prides himself to be working for the right side of the law. Sebastian remembered the doctor as a kindhearted man with strict moral principles. Holmes screwed Watson up badly.

“Holmes knows that we can’t touch him. Not with his darn brother around. He even had the guts to drop a couple of insults to Anderson and Donovan.”

“Oh don’t be so cross, Greg.” Jim said with his Irish drawl. “It’s just his way of saying hello.”

When Jim and Sebastian entered the busy floor of New Scotland Yard, they noticed that the office was particularly restless today. Officers were bustling around the room uneasily and seemed avoid one corner of the room where a meeting room was located. The glass windows of the room were closed off with blinds and a security guard stood in front of the door. Lestrade nodded at the guard as he approached the door. The guard nodded back and placed his hand on the handle of the door. The detective inspector looked back at Jim and Sebastian.

“He said he wants to talk with you. No one else.”

“I’m flattered.” Jim said with a shrug. Sebastian shifted.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Oh it will be fine. I will open the blinds. I’m sure he will let me do that.” Jim waved. Lestrade and Sebastian exchanged glances. Jim stepped forward and winked at the security guard who cautiously opened the door for him. Lestrade and Sebastian watched nervously as Jim slipped into the room.

“Hello, Sherlock.” Sherlock Holmes was standing at the other side of the room. His sharp eyes glinted at Jim like a predator. His coat and scarf was carefully slung on top of a chair. To be honest, Jim loved the way the criminal mastermind stared at him all the time. He thought the dark coat and the long hair gave Holmes the look of a Byronic hero. Dangerous, dark and romantic.

“Moriarty.” The low voice rumbled.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked innocently as he reached for the blinds and casually adjusted it so that Lestrade and Sebastian could supervise their exchange. Sherlock didn’t seem to mind.

“Business. I could have visited your flat but your place is always in such a state of mess.” The criminal said briskly and gestured at the table in front of them.

“Oh we both know that is not the reason.” Jim undid his jacket button deliberately slowly. His back was turned towards Lestrade and Sebastian. They’d have no idea how seductive Jim’s glance was. Sherlock Holmes merely stared back with a cold, blank expression. Jim slowly sat down. Sherlock remained standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

“How is your little pet doing?” Jim asked casually. “Haven’t seen him in a while.” Sherlock shifted his eyes away from Jim and rested it upon Sebastian who was standing on the other side of the glass with a squared jaw.

“I’m keeping him well entertained.” Said Holmes with his gaze still fixed on the Colonel. “Yours on the other hand, looks a bit bored.” Sebastian must have noticed that the criminal was talking about him because he narrowed his eyes threateningly. Sherlock smirked and tilted his head as if to study Jim’s flat mate.

“I know that look. All soldiers have that in their eyes. Same with John.” Sherlock waved his long fingers. “So hollow, so _bored_.” The tall man turned his attention back to Jim. “And so do you.” Jim swallowed. His heartbeat elevated a notch and it was about to burst .The wine from earlier was not helping him keep his composure either.

“Well, I’m certainly not bored right now.” The professor breathed out. Holmes noticed the dangerous glint in the auburn eyes.

“No,” He agreed. “But I am.”

“Oh?” Jim raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve disappointed me, Moriarty.” Sherlock said with a melodramatic sigh. “You haven’t solved the final problem. Our problem. You’re slipping. You can barely keep up with me. At this rate I can beat you any time. Crush you like a bug. You need to prove it to me that I am worth keeping you. Entertain me. Convince me.”  The consulting detective rumbled.

“Are you confessing your love to me?” Jim sniggered.

“Don’t be silly.” Sherlock dismissed with a growl. “Did you think that all this time, my brother was holding my back? Hm? No, he wants me caught as much as Lestrade does.” He closed the blinds with a snap and swooped down behind Jim. Sherlock leaned forward so that his lips were so close to his ear. The professor swallowed with anticipation.

“It’s you. I know you are holding back. You are afraid that I will be gone for good. Don’t insult me with your pathetic pride, James.”  The way Sherlock’s low voice addressed his name sent a jolt of excitement down his spine. “Give me all you got.” All of a sudden, Jim could not contain himself. Joy welled inside of him and he started to giggle uncontrollably. His shoulders shook as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. Sherlock stood up straight and looked down at the consulting detective who was still laughing. After several heaves, Jim managed to wipe tears away from his face and breathed out.

“Oh, the things you do to me, Sherlock.” He grinned up at Sherlock. “If you insist,” Jim pushed Sherlock against the table aggressively and pressed himself against the consulting criminal. “Let’s play, shall we? And I promise you, you will not be bored. _At all_.” He traced his fingers lightly against the consulting criminal’s groin. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and growled. Jim remembered the first time they met. It was at St. Bart’s. Sherlock Holmes was under the disguise as “Will from IT” and tried to undermine Jim’s homosexuality by seducing him. They stood closely together. Like this. The way those long arms held him tenderly…

“What is it with you and your sexual attraction to me, Moriarty?” Sherlock tried to push Jim away but the shorter man clung on to him.

“Because you’re dangerous. You make me want to rip everything apart, Sherlock. They call me the Napoleon of Justice, did you know that? But when I dance with you, all the sudden I’m Mr. Sex. I want to be with you. I want to be _inside you_. ” A moment of silence passed as the two breathed heavily. It seemed like Sherlock was also trying to contain something inside of him. Jim could not tell whether it was lust or disgust. Before he could identify what it was, Sherlock smirked.

“You are mad, Professor. Perhaps madder than I am. But you cannot be with me. Or our problem will be an impossible problem.”

“Oh I envy John Watson.” Jim breathed. “No wonder he ran off with you.”

“He is not _with_ me.”

“Does that mean you are available?” Jim smiled teasingly. Sherlock didn’t answer. He nudged Jim away and reached for his coat and scarf.

“Hopefully, the next time we meet, it will be a more intelligible conversation.” He said briskly as he wrapped his blue scarf around his neck. Jim struggled to level his breathing as the consulting criminal walked past him and slipped out of the room.

Moran and Lestrade tried their best not to betray their fear to Sherlock Holmes as the tall, dark figure exited the room with a flourish of his long coat. As soon as the figure disappeared into the hallway, Sebastian hurried into the meeting room to check on Jim. His flat mate was stooped in the middle of the meeting room.

“Jim, are you alright?” Sebastian asked gently. The professor whirled around with a manic shine in his eyes. The Colonel’s heart sank.

“I feel absolutely brilliant!” He exclaimed and advanced towards Sebastian and Lestrade. “Oh we are going to have so much fun. Detective Inspector, pay particular attention for any suspicious crime for the next few months. Good night!”

“Of course, that is my job.” Greg said with an uneasy look and watched as the consulting detective bound out of New Scotland Yard.

Sebastian Moran could sense the motors in Jim’s head spinning out of control as the two silently rode the cab home. By the time they reached Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson had cleared the kitchen. She gave the half empty bottle of wine back to Sebastian as Jim bolted up the stairs to their flat.

“I couldn’t finish it. You boys ought to before it goes sour.” She said. Sebastian smiled but he knew that giving Jim alcohol at his current state was not a very good idea. He tried to carry it back to their kitchen without being found by Jim but the professor was waiting for him at the top of the stairs with a wine glass in his hand.

“Here,” He took the bottle, poured some into the glass and handed it to Sebastian and took a large swig straight from the bottle.

“Come on, Jim.” Sebastian moaned. Jim waved his hands in the air and walked over to his arm chair. He didn’t give much care to the papers spread on the floor and just stepped on them. “What did he say?” Sebastian asked as he sat across Jim. The consulting detective bit down on the back of his hand with a faraway look in his eyes.

“We are going to play a game, Sebastian.”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know but it will be exciting. Sherlock Holmes is always exciting.”

“And usually involves people dying.”

“That’s what people do!” Jim exclaimed. Sebastian stared back in alarm. Jim himself looked a bit surprised with his outburst and let out a nervous laugh.

“Sorry, I’m just- I don’t know what’s gotten to me.” He muttered and continued gnawing at the back of his hand. Sebastian could see the initial glee and excitement ebbing away, being replaced by sense of realization and fear on his friend’s face. A realization that Jim Moriarty was breaking apart.

This must be what happened to Captain John Watson. Sherlock Holmes had the magnetic power to bring out the darker side of people. Throw them off guard, question their morale, and lure them into the world of dangerous excitement, sin, and power play. Being a man of action and curiosity by nature, Jim was especially vulnerable to Holmes’s lure. Every time they came in contact, Jim’s warm composure broke and he was not himself anymore.

Jim stopped biting and took another swig from the wine bottle. Then, he raked his fingers through his hair and ruffled them up. The mathematician looked confused. Sebastian could not believe that the same person has been calmly giving him a lecture about the Entscheidungsproblem earlier. Sebastian got up from his seat and kneeled in front of Jim. He gently pulled the wine bottle away from him.

“Stop thinking about him.” He instructed gently. “Your obsession with him is frightening me.”

“I’m not obsessed with him.” Jim said unconvincingly. “I’m not.” His voice cracked. Sebastian leaned over to place the wine bottle on the side table when suddenly, Jim grabbed his face and pushed his lip aggressively against his, making Sebastian knock the wine bottle over. The red fluid splashed all over the side table, the rug, and the numerous papers scattered across the floor. Sebastian tried to escape his flat mate’s grip but Jim was so desperate to find something that helped him ground him to sanity.

Sebastian knew this was wrong. It was not that he was against homosexuality. It was just that he and Jim were not together in that way. Not yet, at least. Because he knew who Jim had in mind while they shared their passionate kiss. It was Sherlock Holmes and he will not succumb to be his substitute. Jim and Sebastian were far from establishing a healthy relationship because Jim was still attracted to an unhealthy one.

Somehow, Sebastian managed to unlock his lips from Jim and press his forehead against each other.

“James, please, calm down.” He whispered.

“I’m sorry.” Jim breathed and shook his head.

“You do this all the time.”

Sebastian remembered the time Jim met “Will from IT” at Bart’s. Sebastian will probably never learn how far Holmes has managed to go with Jim that day. Not that he ever wanted to know, but whatever they did, Holmes left Jim desperate for more. He came home looking wild and aggressively kissed Sebastian and pressed his body against the muscular frame. Jim had told Sebastian about his sexual orientation before they moved in but that was the first time he had shown this aspect of personal life to Sebastian.

“I’m really sorry.” Jim shut his eyes tightly and winced. Sebastian could tell that he was trying to push Sherlock Holmes out of his head. Sebastian gently peeled himself away from Jim. The detective slowly opened his eyes and traced his fingers across the scar on Sebastian’s face. He was trying to find as many differences between Sebastian and Sherlock as possible.

Sebastian broke eye contact with Jim and stared at the dark red puddle on the floor. Slowly, the ex-soldier got this his feet to fetch something to wipe the floor. Jim was still hunched over with his hands in his hair, breathing hard.

As he picked the wine bottle up, Sebastian remembered the second time Jim encountered Sherlock Holmes. It was at the pool side, where Jim Moriarty solved his first murder. After Holmes disappeared into the dark, the high strung tension unwound immediately only to leave Jim restless and manic for several days. Sebastian was woken up many nights by a figure lingering over him at night. Jim tried to resolve his confusion by getting intimate with Sebastian. On many occasions, Sebastian contemplated on moving out but he was well aware that he was the only thing keeping Jim from running off with Holmes. As if he read his mind, Jim whispered,

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.” He said gently. “It’s not a problem we can’t solve.”  


End file.
